Tag: Neighbor Guy

BLOG: Gonna Have A Good Day

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Tuesday afternoon.

I am having a good day so far. Looking good, feeling fly. Ain’t nobody dope as me, I’m just so fresh, so clean (so fresh and so clean, clean)!

Did yoga on the rooftop, then showered and got all dolled up for no other reason than just because I can. I set my intention for today to just feel good and be happy and have a nice day.

Luckily for me, my neighbor decided against sneaking up on me during my yoga session. I sensed he was out there at some point because that’s a real thing you can do when you’re real deep into your mind. My guess is that he caught me when I was deep in meditation and realized it’s actually not cool to disrupt someone when they’re in the middle of their yoga practice.

I still got startled by a pigeon afterword, thinking it was him. I’m super paranoid he is going to jump out at me now at any moment and scare the absolute crap out of me. It’s so funny to me how easily I startle. It’s definitely a trauma response, lol. I appreciate the fact that my neighbor and I have made a little inside joke out of it. As I have learned, anything on the Trauma Spectrum is best dealt with humor.

I had a very nice vision while I was meditating today. Much to my surprise, I received a visit from Lord Ganesha himself, which was very unexpected and pleasantly surprising.

In case you need a reminder, Lord Ganesha is the Hindu Elephant God who, amongst many other things, invented writing and the alphabet. He is the god I chose to devote myself to when I was at the Yoga Shala in India. He hasn’t let me down so far!

He was holding pens in all four of his hands with different names on them representing all the different places I’ve been. He handed me the pens and said, “You are doing well, Betsey. I am very pleased with your progress on your story so far. You will be a great writer someday.”

He grew two more arms and held up two choices in his hands. In one hand was a fireball representing anger and in the other hand was a bag of ca$$$h money, baby!

He said, “You must let go of your anger now. It’s holding you back. You must choose. You can stay angry, or you can make money. What do you want?”

Obviously I chose the money because duh, who wouldn’t? He handed me the bag and disappeared. I found myself walking down Agonda Beach back in India all alone, as I usually do when I’m meditating.

The Russian appeared and looked at me really sadly. He stopped me and took me in his arms and started dancing with me.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“I forgive you,” I answered.

I kissed him goodbye and let him go. Then I got on my horse and rode off alone into the sunset, just as any good American cowgirl would do. The last thing I saw in my vision was myself dressed in white, dancing all alone, looking happy and free.

I came back to reality and felt the sun shining down on me, warming me, soothing me, recharging my battery, bringing me back to life. I said my final prayer, then got up to wash my mat. I felt so good in that moment. I’m still feeling pretty good. I feel extra sparkly today.

After I finished washing my mat, I went back down to my apartment to transform myself from Sweaty Betty mode to Princess mode. I put on my “Self-Esteem Booster” playlist and sang along to it while I showered and got dressed.

It wasn’t until I was packing up to leave that I realized my neighbor could probably hear my fabulously musical rendition of “P.I.M.P.” By 50 Cent. I imagined him sitting on the other side of the wall, looking confused and thinking, “What in the fuck? WHO is this woman?!”

Hilarious, truly, lol.

I guess I just wanted to warn him. I don’t know what ya heard about me, but a bitch can’t get a dollar outta me, lolololol!

Too funny.

Hmm, what should I do today? I don’t know. I just wanted to do something simple and easy that will make me happy, like ride the ding-ding from one end of the island to the other. The weather is perfect for it. Honestly it’s so fun. I don’t care how lame and touristy it is.

Next stop: Kennedy Town!

Oooh, I should stop by HKU campus even though it’s completely unaffordable for me! I just want to see the campus. It’s very historic.

The barista says I should go to the beach. Could be an option. I’m not really in sand mode since I just did yoga and showered. I’m wearing a really pretty dress and I’ve already done my hair and makeup. I’m like, more in… “find a nice cafe overlooking the fragrant harbor and eat lunch there” mode. You know me. My idea of being outdoorsy is sitting on a patio. I already did my workout today. I have zero desire to go on a hike.

LOL these two guys are standing outside the coffee shop talking about how attractive I am in French. They have no idea I can understand everything they are saying. Classic comedy material right here.

Hmmm… what else can I say about today? Well, last night I watched the Netflix documentary “Should I Marry A Murderer?” Girl, damn. It’s scary how easily that could be me. Watching her mental breakdown in real time was pretty distressing.

I do respect and admire the fact that she put in the work of getting the confession and the location of the body. The way the police treated her was really shitty. They didn’t help her at all.

The comments online are even worse. It’s so depressing how many people in the world completely lack empathy. They’re lucky in a way because they have clearly never been in a situation where they themselves or someone they know has seriously struggled with mental health and addition issues. Still… just… sad to read. People are so fucking shitty. They just don’t get it.

She ends it by saying “When you love yourself, you attract healthy love.” This was my inspiration to love myself today. Yes, I will love myself enough not to end up in bed with another sociopath, lololol. We can only hope…

Off now.

All aboard the ding-ding!

Ding ding, ding ding, ding ding…

BLOG: The Weekend Update

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Monday.

It was quite the weekend, wasn’t it? You know shit’s going down when I don’t post for two days in a row. So much to document. This is why I have to write daily or I will forget.

Friday night was… the most interesting. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it to be since the vast majority was pretty lame. I watched Remarkably Bright Creatures, which made me cry my eyes out. I think I may have watched something else before that which also made me cry, but I can’t fully remember. Whatever it was also made me cry. I actually spent most of my night crying. That’s what I remember about it, lol.

It’s not a good weekend for me. It was my dead dad’s birthday and Mother’s Day. Not so fun for me. So I just planned to stay in and cry about it because I didn’t want to put that energy onto anyone else by going out in public.

Sometime around 3am, I decided to go up to the rooftop for a smoke. As I was coming back to the stairway, I heard someone coming up the stairs. I looked down to confirm it was my hot beefcake neighbor. I noticed he was staring at his phone and had his earbuds in. I decided to use the opportunity to scare him since that’s our little inside joke now. We are always startling each other unexpectedly, though I suspect he’s done it on purpose now at least once or twice. The last time was definitely intentional.

I decided to take revenge. I hid behind the door so he couldn’t see me. When he reached the top, I jumped out at him and yelled “Boo!” I got the full movie jump scare out of him. He genuinely looked terrified! I was laughing so hard! It was so funny! Just what I needed after a long night of crying…

It took him a minute or two to recover. Once he had regained his composure, he gave me a look I can only describe as “smoldering” and said, “Ohhh, you’re in trouble now. I’m gonna get you back. I am going to wreck you. Just absolutely wreck you. One of these days, I’m gonna come out here when you’re doing yoga and sneak up on you and absolutely ruin you.”

….

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Ummm… okay. Why does that sound less like a threat and more like a sexual innuendo? Is this one of these British English vs American English kind of situations? What’s going on here? What’s he actually saying? Am I supposed to be turned on right now? Because I’m actually kind of turned on right now.

As I was relaying this part of the story to my friend later, she raised her eyebrow and smirked at me.

“I think your neighbor has a thing for you,” she said.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Does saying ‘I’m going to wreck you’ mean something different in British? Because in America, that’s a very strong, very sexually-charged statement to make.”

My friend just laughed at me.

“Yeah, it means the same thing in British.”

“So he’s saying he wants to bang me?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Hmm. Interesting.”

Back to the rooftop. We ended up sitting out there chatting for like an hour and a half. He said to me, “You know, you are the strangest person I have ever met. I can’t figure you out at all. You’re such a little weirdo. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Well, you know us Americans. We’re all very strange and exotic to properly uptight British lads like yourself. It’s A Thing. They’re all into Asian girls until the moment they meet an American, and then it’s like, “Ooooooh, an American. I’m obsessed with Americans and America. I love America! I want to be American! If I put my penis inside of you, will I absorb your magical powers of Freedom, Liberty, and Justice for All?”

My British Guy in Bangkok was like this as well. He was utterly obsessed with my Americanness. Then he ran off with some Thai girl to an island and was never seen or heard from again. I don’t think he knows what he wants, tbh.

Anyway, so, back to my neighbor. He started asking me all these questions about South Dakota. This is also A Thing I’ve noticed with people who have fascinations with Americans. They hear me say “South Dakota” and they think Ye Olde Western Frontier. Cowboy boots. Gunslingers. Old-timey dive bars with a piano player and bathtub bourbon. Aces and Eights! The whole thing!

Truly, not that far off from reality, if you want my professional opinion.

So obviously the last thing I want to talk about to anyone ever is motherfucking South Dakota. Unfortunately, it turns out there is a whole untapped international market that is obsessed with it and wants to know everything there is to know about it. It is what it is. I could be angry, or I could exploit my 17 years of experience and knowledge for ca$$$h money, baby! What do you think I’ll end up choosing in the end?

As I mentioned previously, my neighbor is an Actor. He says he usually plays bad guys in Chinese movies. I told him he could also play bad guys in Bollywood movies since he’s British. He said, “No, I want to play a gunslinger in a movie about the American West.” Okay, okay, I can see it, I can see it. Let’s just sit here on the rooftop and work through this concept together until we have a decent script.

The story we ultimately worked out is basically just the male version of The Holiday. I have a friend back in SD who has the same name as my neighbor. We’ll use a fake name here to protect their identities: Dave. So this movie is temporarily titled “Dave vs. Dave.” Still working that one out.

In this movie, Hong Kong Dave and South Dakota Dave are both bored with their lives and looking for a change. They meet on an Internet forum and decide to trade lives. HK Dave goes to South Dakota, where he lives in SD Dave’s tiny house, drives his big pick-up truck, works at a dive bar on the edge of town, wears cowboy boots every day, and carries a gun around on his hip for absolutely no reason other than the fact that it looks cool.

Meanwhile, SD Dave goes to Hong Kong, where he lives in HK Dave’s tiny shoebox apartment and works as an actor. We get to see him scaling the bamboo scaffolding and doing kung fu and going on crazy car chases across the bridge to Kowloon and fighting off the Triads.

I sent this pitch to SD Dave and he absolutely LOVED it. He was like, “Can we make this actually happen?” IDK, maybe. I suppose anything is possible, right?

Right.

Sometime around 4:30am, we decided to call it a night. I was slightly disappointed that he did not make a move, but again, I suspect he has a girlfriend even though he says, “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a girl I see sometimes.” Sooooo basically… she’s your girlfriend, lol.

Men. Lol.

So that was Friday.

On Saturday, I went out with my girl friend, whose identity I prefer to protect by not “making her into a character.” We have talked about this. I told her that I mention in my blog that we frequently go out to different places together, but she’s not a “character” and I don’t write about her life. She’s cool with it.

So we went out for lunch, then we went up to The Sketchy Place. It was actually her suggestion. I had my doubts, but I mulled it over during lunch and decided it was a good idea to check in again after a month to see what’s up. As we were walking up, both of us had some doubts, but we decided to go through with it in the end.

Several mysteries were solved on this occasion. First, I figured out how I got “lost” and “separated” from her the last time we were there. It turns out, the bathroom is in a weird location. You have to walk back through the kitchen to get to it. If you come out and turn left immediately, there is an open door to the alleyway outside that splits into two directions. If you turn right, you go back through the kitchen and out into the bar. As soon as I saw this, I realized that what had happened before was that I was really drunk and confused and somehow got “lost” in this alleyway. I get lost in the dumbest ways in HK. It’s a real thing.

The second mystery we solved was the question of whether or not this place is frequented by drug dealers. The answer is yes. I saw the same guy from The Wolf who had given the coke to the Finance Bro I was with at the time. I observed him for some time. He kept going in and out, making phone calls, and “shaking hands” with randoms on the street. It appeared to be an open secret among the regulars there. Everyone knew what he was doing and nobody cared. It’s like… yeah, duh, that’s why he’s here.

The group of people he was with were the same sketchy crew of long-term expats as before. Once I sat in observation of their dynamic without involving myself, I understood exactly what was going on.

Somehow, our tab was mysteriously “taken care of,” even though we did not actually socialize much with anyone else that night. I don’t know who paid it. Was it the MAusGA guy? Was it my Irish friend? Was it someone else? We have no idea. All we know is that we didn’t have to pay for jack shit.

Hmm… I see your bribe for what it is and willingly accept it. I will no longer be reporting on The Sketchy Place. Really, what else is there to say? Everyone knows the daily consumption of Coke & Special K are an open secret in the Finance World. It is what it is. What else is there to say?

So at this point, I was pretty wasted. I know better than to daydrink with wine, but I was daydrinking wine. Questionable choices were made! All I can say is: Nothing good ever happens at the 7/11 by Peel Street. It is what it is!!!!

I made a deal not to write about what happened with the other person involved. We agreed it was a mistake and to just hit reset and move on. I am open to making deals with people not to use them as characters in my writing. You just have to approach it the right way. You’ll get much further by being respectful than you will by going on the attack. Going into Attack Mode against me will make it 1000x more likely that I’ll write about you. I reserve the right to defend myself at all times. My way of defending myself is with a Pen, not a Sword. It is what it is.

This is part of the reason why I ignored the Russian when he said he didn’t want to me to write about him. Okay, well, maybe you should have thought about that more before you used me for cheap work trip sex, tossed me aside like I was nothing, and then blocked me as soon as you got off the plane in Switzerland.

All of that says, “I have no respect for you as a human being.” So why would I have any respect for you in return? Fuck you, bro. I’ll write a story about you fighting a bear with your shirt off if I want to. What are you going to do? Cancel me for being a big, strong, alpha female?

*blows raspberry in his general direction*

Anyway, I was soooo hungover yesterday. It was not a good thing. I can’t live my life this way anymore. I am getting too old for this. My body absolutely fucking hates me right now. I need to do a cleanse. I need to do yoga. I need to drink some water and eat some fruit. Just… ugh.

I still have not made a decision about Cambodia. I need to do that like, today. I can’t just ghost this person. It’s been almost a week. I need to send them a response.

It’s hard. I love Hong Kong. I really want to make it work. I can see myself living here long-term. But I also feel like… this work trade in Cambodia is a rare opportunity and I should take it just for the experience. Cambodia is so beautiful. It has such a tragic backstory. It’s complicated. I want the chance to explore it. Isn’t that the point of coming to SEA? I gotta See the SEA! That’s why I’m here!

Plus, it might be good for me to go teach yoga and be out of the city and just do a little reset/detox to figure out my next steps. This year has been stressful and confusing. I’m so grateful to have left SD behind, but it’s been a lot.

I don’t know. I have to decide. I’m gonna do yoga on my rooftop and figure it out from there. I’ll just make sure my neighbor isn’t home first so he can’t sneak up on me and scare me, lol!

I told him this morning that he missed out on his revenge. I was walking down the stairs in my building and a GIGANTIC cockroach fell from the sky and bounced off my shoulder. I SCREAMED so loud that the entire building heard me.

I messaged him to tell him this story and he said, “Ah yes, I heard your shriek. I suspected that’s what happened. This is why I told you not to use the stairs.”

I was just trying to get my steps in, bro. Jesus. I hate cockroaches. They’re so gross. So gross! EWWWWW!!!!!

Phew! What a long post! What a weekend! What a life!

I really do love it. Even on the days when I’m sad and struggling and lost and confused. I love my life. I love Hong Kong. I love SEA. I feel so incredibly lucky to be here. I am grateful every single day. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world, for better or for worse. I never, ever thought I would live in Hong Kong (or Bangkok, for that matter). I wouldn’t trade this adventure for anything in the world.

Off now. I need to tidy up my studio and run errands and do all the boring stuff now. Not every day can be an adventure. Most days are very routine and boring. But still… I can’t help but find myself falling more in love with Hong Kong every day…

Have a good day!

BLOG: Erotic Thriller Inspiration

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Friday afternoon.

Post-yoga vibes. Waiting on my lunch at the healthy place. I am trying to be kinder to myself and embrace the whole “healthy yogi” thing. I like cheeseburgers far too much to ever go full crunchy, but a side of granola every now and then isn’t a bad thing.

The other thing preventing me from going full crunchy is the whole anti-vaxx thing. It’s just not compatible with my world view. Like, at all. Anyway, let’s not get into that. Let’s just say I met way too many people in India and Bali who did not get vaxxed before traveling to a tropical destination and could not understand how they got sick.

My yoga session today was more like a meditation session. I did a little bit of stretching, but mostly I sat still and meditated. It felt like the more natural thing to do on this specific occasion. I wasn’t sure why until I pictured myself sitting on a beach and suddenly my dad’s spirit appeared in front of me. He wanted to talk to me. It was very difficult, but I let him speak. He says that he is sorry and he’s watching out for me, blah blah blah, all that lame cheesy shit. Cue the waterworks! Wahhh!

Yeah, it is what it is.

Now I am sitting here at the healthy place, eavesdropping on two Western businessmen having a meeting behind me. One is French and the other one is Italian. Neither of them are living up to the stereotype of Handsome or Sexy. They are doing business in English, so I can understand them. Sort of. I actually have no idea what the fuck they’re talking about. Assets and funds and investments. Snoozefest! Talk about blah blah blah. Is there any subject in this world more boring than finance? Honestly!

Sometimes I think I should just give in to my grandmother’s demands and be boring and go to business school and become a banker/accountant like everyone else on my mom’s side of the family. Then I actually sit here and listen to these Finance Bros talk and I’m like… there’s no way I’m staying awake through an entire semester of this shit. It’s just not for me.

Oh boy. The Italian just started a story with, “Long story short: back in Italy during World War II…”

We’re gonna be here all afternoon at this rate.

Ooh, now it’s finally getting interesting. Apparently this is some kind of Art Deal. Juicy. Show me the good stuff! I need inspiration for my erotic thriller movie starring The Russian. “Shady Art Deal Gone Wrong in Hong Kong” could be just the thing we’re looking for to prop up this otherwise plotless smut!

“Are you going to cancel me for being a big, strong, alpha male?”

No, but I am going to turn you into a character in the sort of 90’s cheesy erotic thriller bored finance bros like you watch alone on a Tuesday night and jerk off to before falling asleep on your ugly leather couch.

“She’s an American secret agent sent to Hong Kong to stop the Triads from a planned heist to steal a valuable, priceless work of ancient Chinese art that definitely belongs in a museum. He’s the Russian agent sent in to see the deal through. How many explicit sex scenes can we put in this film before it gets slapped with an NC-17 rating? Is that even a thing anymore? Find out when we see this big, strong, alpha Scorpio male go full-frontal!”

*giggles*

“I do not consent, Liz.” Ohhh, lighten up already! What’s wrong with using your Hyrox stats to speculate whether or not you can fight a bear without a shirt on? Seriously! I think you need more of this energy in your life, personally. You seem really uptight once that mask comes off.

HAHAHAHAHA

Sorry, I can’t help myself. I live for this shit. What good are men if not to use for inspiration for fictional characters?

Hehehehehehe.

So hilarious. LOL!

Definitely feeling better about life now. This is how I cope with my life. I just wave my magic wand and turn them into fiction. 🙂 🙂 🙂

Oooh, this conversation is getting SUPER juicy! They’re talking about rich art collectors in HK who own all these big businesses in Switzerland. Yaaaassssss this is the material I came here to find! GIVE IT TO ME!!!!

Wow, they own a chocolate factory in Switzerland? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. I never would have come up with that on my own! Never saw this Willa Wonka-ass shit coming. Crazy.

Name dropping JP Morgan. Oooooooh gurrrrrrrlllllll this is JUICY!

Hmm, I think it would be funnier if The Russian’s character was just the nerdy Finance Guy sent in from Switzerland to deliver the briefcase full of cash and she mistakes him for The Russian Spy. The Russian Spy is actually an American double agent backed by MAGA with a completely different agenda. She just bangs the Russian Guy because she catches him in the middle of his Hyrox routine without his glasses on and discovers he has practical skills beyond crunching numbers and doing paperwork. Practical skills like wrestling bears without a shirt on and riding on a motorcycle! That’s hot!

OMG! What the fuck is this movie and why do I want to write it so bad?

Lol at this conversation. Shoutout to the great nations of Italy and France! Thank you for coming together to collaborate on this amazing post today! I am soooo here for it!

Yes, and then we can get my hot neighbor to play the Double Agent and give him his first starring role! YES! I love this movie! It’s going to be the kind of trash you cancel plans to stay in bed to watch alone with your pets and a bottle of wine!!!

14/10, would watch.

Amazing. Love the French. Love the Italians. If only they knew of the literary genius they’re actively inspiring with their conversation right now. I’m sure they would be very proud. They would be like, “Well, of course we have inspired you. We are French/Italian. That is what we do. We invented art!” And then they would have an argument over who actually “invented” art and we’ll all be stuck here all day.

Lol so funny. The French guy said, “Hmm, this is an interesting concept, but I do not think I will be an investor.”

The Italian guy immediately replied, “Well, fuck you.”

They are still sitting here arguing over it 20 minutes later. Now I understand why both teams wear confusingly similar shades of red and blue in the Six Nations tournament. This argument was never actually resolved, ever. Right. Got it.

They’ve changed the subject now. Boring. Off to find a different conversation to eavesdrop on to fuel the creativity now! Ta ta!

BLOG: Rooftop Rumble

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Here we are. Saturday morning. Up on my rooftop, which is unusual for me. I had to come here to clean up the mess I made last night, so I decided to stay for a coffee, a smoke, and a blog.

Somehow still fully intact after I ran into Hot Neighbor Guy on the roof last night. He had already been out, so he was very drunk, and very chatty, and very friendly. He wanted to show me the trailer for the new movie he’s in that just came out yesterday. Turns out he’s an Actor AND Athlete, and that’s why he’s such a sexy beefcake!

Dear god, help us all.

Not what I expected, tbh. I thought he was some kind of day-trader or something and that’s why he keeps such strange hours. Wrong. As he said to me last night, “Just because I’m from Hong Kong doesn’t mean I work in Finance. Not everyone here is born with a pile of money in their hands and an investment account automatically set up for them.”

Oh yeah, just like how not everyone in the UAE owns a private jet, right?

LOL.

He told me he gets nervous around me because I’m a writer. He said, “I’m always careful about what I say around you because I know you’re going to go write everything I say down for later. Every time I walk away from you think I think to myself that I’ve said too much or said the wrong thing and I wonder how I’m going to look on the page.”

Hmm… he’s good. He must have some sort of prior experience with this. Oh really, an Actor is concerned about how his character will appear on the page? You don’t say.

I said, “Yes, I have written about you. I wrote ‘Dear Diary, My neighbor is sooooooooo hot! He is such a sexy beefcake! He has the cutest little British accent. I have such a big fat crush on him!’”

He just laughed at me and said, “You didn’t really write that!”

Oh, but I did.

Then he told me that I’m cool and he likes me, but I need to chill out because I’m too angry and high-strung all the time. He suggested I go to a rave-themed junk boat party to level myself out. LOL, okay.

Uh, sure, yeah, I’d love to pay $1000 HKD (~$128 USD) to go drink and do drugs with strangers in a place I can’t escape from for at least seven hours. That sounds like so much fun. I’m sure that would totally chill me out and not be a potentially traumatic event that could go horribly, horribly wrong, especially with my mental health history.

…

Okay, I’ll think about it, but I’m taking this guy with me. I’m not getting on any boats or going to any parties alone. I said as much to him and he said, “Okay, I know a good bar around the corner. My buddy is the manager there. I’ll take you to the neighborhood spot and introduce you to some people.”

He continued his brutally honest monologue full of hot takes, delivering the bad news to me with extreme levels of politeness, as only a British person can:

“You need to be more direct and ask for what you want. You can’t just stomp around screaming and passive-aggressively demanding things. I heard you ranting about me one time and I thought to myself, ‘Why didn’t you just come knock on the door and politely introduce yourself? I would have helped you out. I’m a friendly guy.’ But you didn’t do that. It was so strange. What is wrong with you? Were you always like this? Usually Americans are much nicer and more straightforward than this.”

Siiiiiiiiiigh.

I have forgotten how to communicate in a polite, direct manner. I definitely need a British person to teach me how to do that again. I think the snappy, hostile, passive-aggressive, indirectness of South Dakota has rubbed off on me too much. My family also does not communicate directly. Nobody in my life communicates directly. If I communicate directly to people, they usually shut down or stop communication or run away. Clearly I need a new tactic.

He continued on: “What are you even doing here anyway? You can literally do anything you want to do here. Anything in the world. Your view is so limited. You need to get out and be around more people. I don’t think you know what Hong Kong is really like.”

Okay, teach me your ways, Master Yoda. Let’s pre-game at your friend’s place and hop on this junk boat. Show me The Real Hong Kong!

He imparted me with some advice for job hunting that I had never thought of before. Then he reminded me to knock on his door and ask him politely for whatever I need and he will do his best to assist me. He followed this up by going down to his apartment and bringing me back a little stuffed animal he won at a fair or got out of a vending machine or something.

I know what you’re thinking : does this guy have a girlfriend?

Well… first he referred to her as “the missus.” Then he said she’s “not his girlfriend, just a girl he’s seeing.” LOL, okay. Then he explained that he doesn’t want to bring her over here because he doesn’t want her to see how shitty his apartment is.

Uh huh… We’ve all heard this shit before. A likely tale. One minute, he’s saying she’s not his girlfriend, the next minute you find out they’re married and have a baby together. How many times has this happened to me now? I’ve lost count.

Anyway, it’s good I ran into him. We were hanging out for quite awhile. He definitely cheered me up. His energy was much brighter and happier than usual.

Truth be told, I was feeling pretty down last night. Very lonely, very depressed. Also still stewing over The Russian, which is not good. I’m just replaying the highlight reel of moments where I went wrong so I don’t fall for that same shit next time.

Seriously, that Russian guy just needs to call the number in the executive escort ad at the back of the in-flight magazine and leave normal everyday women like me alone. Ridiculous. Pretty sure at a place like the Mandarin Oriental, you can just call ahead and they’ll arrange it for you. They’ll have a whole line of girls lined up waiting for you when you arrive! Why do you have to leave the hotel and go out in public and bother women like me, who are busy trying to write articles about real, serious things like Art Basel? You can’t just pick me up and carry me out of the bar and hold me hostage at a luxury hotel for two days! You have to actually pay someone for that service! So pay someone for that fucking service! You know why you’re paying them for that service? So that they will LEAVE! So they will be discreet and disappear once you’re gone. Not me. I’m not going to leave and disappear just like that! You don’t get off that easily! I’m gonna be a pain in your ass! And screw you for even thinking for one second that it’s even remotely acceptable for you to treat a Lady in this undignified manner!

So annoying!

I’ve had it with these motherfucking snakes on this motherfucking plane!

“You should forget about that Russian Guy,” my neighbor said. “You don’t want to get involved with him, trust me. Nothing good comes from dealing with the Russians.”

SO. TRUE! That’s why I called the story “Sleeping with the Enemy.”

Anyway, what was I talking about again? Oh yes, my Island of Lost Guys. What a truly ridiculous place this is.

It’s okay. Now I have a leading actor to cast for the role of Andrew when the time comes. I’m sure the real person Andrew is based on will be thrilled to see himself played by a hot sexy beefcake imitating a slightly-off Minnesota accent. Not sure he can pull off the red plaid flannel shirt and beanie cap as well, tbh…

And that’s the story of how I befriended my neighbor. Chill, platonic vibes, for certain. Show me the Island, friend! Take me to a real party! Introduce me to some real people. Teach me how to be properly Britishly snobby instead of messy emotional trainwreck! Let’s go!

For now, I need to go get brunch. I need brunch friends. Bottomless mimosa and avocado toast friends. Girl talk and LOL friends. There’s only so many times one can watch Sex and the City repeats before they think to themselves, “I want that.”

I definitely need a Bloody Mary and avocado toast today. Ughh…

BLOG: Climbing The Peak, Round 3

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Friday. Where has April gone? It’s going by so fast. I can’t believe it’s halfway over already.

Yesterday I woke up and decided to take back control of my life. I did the only thing I could think of: packed up my yoga mat and a notebook in my backpack, picked up 2 liters of water from 7-11, and headed straight for The Peak.

As previously stated, I love to use the metaphor of working my way to top as my meditation when I climb The Peak. The first time I took the tram up to the halfway point, walked halfway downhill, turned around and walked back uphill, then around the mid-point, then up to the top. Took the entire day.

The second time, I was stewing too much over everything, so I started at the very bottom of the hill (my apartment) and worked my way through the Mid-Levels all the way to the highest point of The Peak. As per usual, I got lost, somehow, which added an extra hour to my time.

I was desperate, so I enlisted the help of the character version of the Hot Beef Stew to coach me all the way to the top. There was a lot of complaining on my end. I was very much out-of-shape. I needed to be bribed the entire way with an imaginary Five Guys bag. I kept stopping to write the story about him. It took forever! But I got my Five Guys in the end, so it was worth it.

Yesterday, I did not enlist the help of my imaginary GAA coach to assist me in my mission of walking up this very big hill. Instead, I used the time to alternate between trying to sweat The Russian out of my system and reflecting on my time in SEA.

Where have I been? Where am I now? Where will I be in the future?

It was a very good day. I didn’t got lost. I got my walk time down, even on the second section of the walk, aka Old Peak Road. Old Peak Road is a bitch! It’s soooooo steep. There are times when it’s actually easier to turn around and walk backwards up the hill. I have to stop every 5 minutes on that section. That section alone tests my grit and determination in ways I didn’t know could be tested. I can’t even tell you how cathartic it is to finally reach the mid-point.

The mid-point trail is easy; you’re basically just cruising around in a circle on flat ground, enjoying the view. The climb to the top is much, much easier because it’s less steep and there are different scenic trails you can take. But Old Peak Road? No. Fuck Old Peak Road. Old Peak Road SUCKS! That’s why it feels so good when I get to the top of it.

There is a beautiful little park up at the top of the Peak filled with birds and butterflies and flowers and plants. There are little pagodas everywhere to sit in. It’s the perfect place to have an outdoor wedding. For my purposes, I turned one of the little pagodas into a yoga shala and went full yogi meditation mode. It was so quiet, so peaceful. Exactly what I needed yesterday. Lots of sweat, lots of meditation.

Forget this guy! Onto the next one, onto the next one!

Well, it’s not that easy. I am so tired of dating. I’m tired of the constant revolving door of men. I just want to be with one person for awhile. Very hard to find these days! Everyone is in constant swipe-right mode. One little imperfection and it’s onto the next one! It’s almost as hard to be optimistic about finding a relationship as it is to be optimistic about finding a job in this hilariously bad job market.

I am trying, though. That is why I went to The Peak. I took time to appreciate the views of the city. I took time to express gratitude to the universe for bringing me to Hong Kong. I reflected on all of the good things, the bad things, the messy things. I thought about the fact that I am generally much happier here than I ever was in South Dakota, even on the days when I don’t feel the best.

I cleared it all out, sent it all away on a cloud, and focused in on the specific vision of my life I want to manifest. It comes in bits and pieces. Right now I am focused on the most important piece, which is stability. Oh, god, do I crave stability. No more packing up to move every few months. No more revolving door of men. No more job hopping. I just want to go back to school and write, write, write, and find a partner who will actually stick around and support my various creative endeavors. And then in return he gets lots of hot sex and a beautifully decorated apartment to come home to every night. They say this is what they want, and yet…

Obviously, I have no control over that aspect. I do have control over the school thing though, so I just need to find a way to go back to school and acquire the financial aid I need to pay for it. It’s not impossible. People do it all the time. I can definitely make this happen.

In the meantime, I am focused on being grateful that I no longer live in South Dakota. No one makes fun of my outfits (because here the way I dress is considered “normal”). I can go to a coffee shop or bar and be welcomed in by the friendly staff and owners who know me personally. I get to go out on dates with sexy, attractive men who dress nice and smell good. There is no small town drama, no cruelty, no bullying, no gossip, no fake nice two-faced bullshit, no targeted smear campaign created for the sole purpose of protecting rapists and predators. Everyone is busy with their own lives and it shows.

I especially look forward to the idea of going to a university where people don’t talk shit about me behind my back because I actually raised my hand to answer the professor’s questions instead of sitting there blankly staring at the wall. I dream of a place where I can make friends and join clubs and participate in activities without being shunned for being different. A place where I can meet people from all over the world and take the classes I want to take and learn the things I want to learn and no one will be there to sabotage any of it.

Very idealistic and optimistic, I know. But I think it’s possible. True, there are a lot of assholes in the world. There are definitely assholes here in Hong Kong. I’ve seen them. I’ve met them. I left my job because I had no tolerance for the racism, bullying, and generally toxic attitudes and behaviors of the South Africans. I refuse to go back to The Wolf or The Sketchy Place because of the assholes I met there.

The world is not a perfect place. Hong Kong is not a perfect place. It has its negatives for sure, but the negatives are still better than the negatives of living in a small town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, South Dakota, where everyone acts like they’re in a cult and outsiders of all kinds are considered “bad.” Sometimes I look back on it all and think to myself, “I can’t believe I tolerated that much bad treatment for so long.”

At the end of my date with The Russian, he decided to lecture me about three things. I hate being lectured, by the way, especially by strangers, and especially by men. So you can imagine that being lectured by someone in the middle of some weird roleplay game I didn’t exactly understand was really fucking annoying, and honestly broke me out of the entire scenario. I was like, “Fuck this shit.” I didn’t want to listen to anything he was saying at all. I just wanted to whack him with the pillow and tell him to shut the fuck up and take his stupid nap while I go get in the giant tub.

That being said, he was right about his first point, which is that I should be kinder to myself. This is a very bold statement from someone who took me to a bar that looks like an old timey opium den/brothel/sex dungeon for a date! Oh, so, this is the vibe you’re generally going for, yet you are sitting here judging me for participating? That’s so not cool, bro! Someone needs to be a little more woke when it comes to their sexuality, lol.

Anyway, that criticism aside, he is right. I should be kinder to myself. It’s just that my self-esteem has been chipped away over the years by my abusive family, the cult-like attitude of the small town I was trapped in for way too long, and the questionable relationships I’ve had with men. So now I’m in a place where I have to make up for that deficiency. I’m trying to figure out who I am and who I want to be and how to accept my life for what it is. Radical self-acceptance is the key.

His other two pieces of advice were less inspiring. He told me I need to call my grandmother and that I need to go freeze my eggs ASAP. Dude, the egg-freezing thing was so weird. Why does this random man care so much about MY ovaries when he’s just going to get on a plane and block me as soon as he sets foot back in Switzerland? That’s so annoying! So annoying. What game are we playing here, again? How did we go from Pretty Woman to Fertility Doctor in the span of five minutes? What the fuck is going on here?

As for the advice about calling my grandmother… meh. There’s no point. We have nothing to talk about. She thinks life should be lived one way and one way only, and I do not live my life that way. She’ll tell me to stop writing, and I’ll say, “No.” She will ask me to change everything about who I am as a person, and I will say, “Why can’t you just accept me for who I am? That’s what Jesus would do!” Then she’ll get upset and blame me for her mood without ever taking any accountability whatsoever.

In my family, the problem is ALWAYS me. No one ever has to take accountability for the shitty things they say and do to hurt me. It’s always my reaction to their behavior that is the problem. I am not supposed to stand up for myself, set clear boundaries, or communicate how I feel about anything, ever. I’m just supposed to sit still, stay quiet, and do whatever I’m told. Keep sweet, pray and obey, god’s love is everything, blah blah blah, just kill me now.

Yeah, that’s not gonna happen, bro. But thanks for the “advice,” I guess?

I’ll just stick with the whole “being kinder to myself” thing. Guess that means saying NO to dates with guys like him, right? Right.

Congratulations, bro, you played yourself. No more old timey opium den-inspired sex dungeon fantasies for you! Next time, you’ll actually have to pay a professional for that!

Anyway, forget him. He sucks.

Had to pause my writing to chat with one of the baristas at my favourite coffee shop. It is her day off today so she came in to load up on snacks before she goes to class. She is studying filmmaking. She wants to be a producer. We have a lot in common.

She was saying she doesn’t feel confident with her English, so I was encouraging her to practice with me. She’s way better than she thinks she is. She explained that she lacks confidence because her family taught her to be quiet and introverted. Same, same! I was just writing about that same exact topic! I definitely feel less alone after that conversation.

She was surprised that I was struggling with the same confidence issue. She was like, “But you’re American! Americans are SO confident! You’re so friendly and open. You don’t have any problem talking to anyone! I wish I could be as confident as you are!”

True, but I have to work really hard on that. If you see me around my family, I am NOT the same person, like… at all. They even said to me in Bangkok, “It’s crazy how different you are now than when we first met you. You were sitting in the corner alone, all curled up, terrified to talk to anyone. Now you just waltz right in like this entire room full of men isn’t absolutely terrified of YOU.”

True, true, true.

And obviously confident enough to be going on dates to old timey opium dens with sexy Russians dressed in leather. And then write it about all with ZERO shame whatsoever!

It is what it is!

Off now. Gotta go back and clean up my studio, again. Sadly, I will probably not be attending the Hong Kong Sevens rugby tournament this weekend, even though it’s one of HK’s biggest events. No one to go with, no tickets, not the kind of party one can simply just attend on their own.

Or maybe I’ll get lucky and someone will extend a last minute invite to a junk boat party! Looking at you, Neighbor Guy!

Alas. Maybe next year…

BLOG: To Market, To Market

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Saturday. At the coffee shop.

The last few days haven’t been great, to be honest. I was feeling pretty low after what happened in the Mid-Levels earlier this week. Who wouldn’t be, right?

You get on a plane, you fly to the other side of the world expecting to live your dream life, and then it all keeps going hilariously wrong instead. Good thing I’m a writer, or I would be crying to my family and begging them to let me come home. I’m not about that life. I will survive.

Instead I made a decision to be pro-active and not cave into the inevitable bed rot. I spent the whole of yesterday deep cleaning my apartment. Just dropped off another load of laundry at the Chinese Laundry Service on the corner so everything will be clean. Made some spicy noodles, drank some tea, ate some snacks. Slept in my freshly-laundered sheets and blankets. Definitely feeling somewhat better about life today.

I know it’s okay because the song on the delivery’s guy street speaker is Linger by the Cranberries. LOL. It’s… a long story, LOL. This is actually a South Dakota moment, not an Irish moment. It’s a “I’m finally at peace with my book about Bloody Mary’s Bar” moment. We have waited many years for this. Let’s soak it up while it lasts.

Anyway, back to the present. We don’t live that sad little small town life anymore. We live the Big SEA life, which is much more exciting. I get to do things like go to yoga school in Bali and spend the night in Thai airport jail and go on dates to the Mandarin Oriental with crazy hot Russian guys and receive late invitations to the fabulous Emerald Ball in Bangkok.

As for the Bloody Mary’s Krewe? Well, I guess they’ll always have the oh-so-fond memory of Mad Dog and I smoking pot on the back patio while Sam the bar owner yells at us over whatever he’s in a bad mood about that day.

Hahahaha!

Okay, but for real, back to the present.

What is my plan for the day? Well, it’s market day, which means grocery shopping! Yay!

Get this: So I kept seeing memes about Hong Kong neighborhoods, and apparently my neighborhood is the Frenchiest neighborhood in HK. I did not know this. I kinda knew because I hear people on the street speaking French just as much as I hear English and Cantonese. I’ve seen some French spots around. I just didn’t realize my neighborhood was “The Spot” until last night when I typed in the word “French” into Google maps and my neighborhood lit up like the Fourth of July.

I discovered a new imported goods shop that deals exclusively in French products, including cheese, deli meats, and bakery items. Ummm, yes please!

Screw the bougie grocery store in the Mid-Levels! On top of everything else ridiculous that happened to me there, they also had the nerve to sell me not one, but two packages of moldy, rotten cheese, both of which were extremely overpriced. We are officially done with them forever. That is definitely a sign from the universe saying, “Stay away from the place! It’s no good for you!”

So today I’m going to check out the French shop instead. I’m very excited about it. In addition to fancy ramen noodles, I survive almost exclusively off of “snack trays” that usually incorporate a variety of fruit, cheese, nuts, and crackers. I checked out the prices online and the deals on some of my preferred items are much better than at the other Western grocery stores. I’ve tried three of them now and they are okay, just overpriced. I still prefer to buy some things at the Chinese shops, like fresh fruit,large packages of water, and household goods. But there are certain things that only the Western grocery stores have (such as the deli and bakery sections), and the quality is vastly different.

Otherwise, I have decided to make peace with the rats who have recently moved into the rooftop garden. They came with the change of the season. They did not used to be there. Now every night I go up there for a cigarette and I see them lurkin’ in the shadows, watching my every move, creeping around so they can grab some rice out of the communal food bowl the building owners leave out every day for the birds.

At first, I was freaked out. It’s not that I am afraid of rats, it’s just that I’ve never forgotten about the time they wiped out 2/3rds of Europe’s population with the Black Plague. I also haven’t forgotten my encounters with the GIANT rats of New Orleans (locally known as “Quarter Cats” because they are so well-fed), nor my encounters with the New York City rats, who are aggressive enough to run straight at you in an effort to try to scare you enough to drop your pizza on the ground. Luckily, Hong Kong rats are neither scarily large, nor scarily aggressive. It seems like they prefer to sneak around unnoticed and hide in plain sight.

Last night I was out there smoking and I caught one of the rats watching me from the safety of one of the plants. It was actually kind of cute. I realized it was more afraid of me than I am of it, and we should be okay as long as we keep a safe distance of six feet of space from each other at all times.

As I made peace with the rooftop rats, I stood up to go back inside. I could smell a very familiar scent coming from the entry way, signaling to me that my cute neighbor was there. So I knew he was there, and I expected to see him standing there, and he still scared the shit out of me anyway! I swear to you, he did it on purpose!

It used to be that he and I would startle each other by accident, but now I think he is doing it intentionally for a laugh. I mean… it was kind of funny. I literally knew he was there and he still got me! Like, bro, why didn’t you just come out into the garden and say hello like you usually do?

I realized then… I gotta watch out more for this guy than I do for the rats. He’s the one that’s gonna get me when I least expect it. Not that I would really mind if he randomly backed me into the elevator and started making out with me… he is a sexy beefcake, after all! And he’s got the sexy British-Hong Konger accent.

Last night he was making fun of the way I say “laundry.” Prior to this jump scare incident, I ran into him in the hallway and told him I was on my way to pick up my laundry. He laughed as he walked away and kept repeating “LAN-dree, LAN-dree” with like some weird Southern drawl on the end of it. Like maybe he was trying to do a Texas accent or something. He just thought it was the funniest thing how I said “laundry.”

I don’t get it, but okay. And then we get the jump-scare a couple hours later. Okay, okay, let’s just makeout on the rooftop already and get it out of your system. Then you can pull a Russian guy and just go back to your real life while pretending literally none of it ever happened.

He also came out of a different apartment than the one I’ve seen him coming out of before. Did he switch apartments? Is that why I keep seeing that random Chinese girl walk into the one that I thought was his? Does this Airbnb host just play musical chairs with their studios and keep moving us around at their convenience? What is happening over here?

Anyway, I was annoyed with him because I actually wanted to ask him a legitimate question and I forgot. I want to ask him what he knows about The Wolf and The Sketchy Place. Surely he has some information I need. I will make sure I remember to ask next time he jumps out of the stairwell and scares the crap out of me.

Well, that’s about all I have to say for now. Off to the market. Have a good day!

BLOG: Reality vs Faerie Land

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Friday.

How am I today? Oh, I just feel like I’m drowning, as per usual. I try to always remember what my favourite little group of expats in Thailand would say: “The first year away is always the hardest. You’re still caught up in all the shit you left behind. You still don’t know who you are or where you are or what you’re even doing. But rest assured, you’ll find your way around in time, just like the rest of us did.”

I don’t feel like I’m finding my way. I feel like I’m way in over my head and I have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into.

This week I have definitely felt the weight of my old life weighing upon me. I don’t know why I am getting so triggered by everything this week. I just keep having flashbacks and night terrors about the situations and people I left behind. I’m just not on my A-game right now.

I should be more excited than I am. Unfortunately, I can only think of how upset and angry my family will be, and wonder how they will conspire to sabotage it, and how I am going to manifest the money I need to chase this relatively new dream.

I feel very conflicted right now. I’ve struggled so hard to find a place in Hong Kong just to live and now I’m just going to give it up so I can run off somewhere new and take the exact same gamble on housing and employment to pursue a degree that I have no real way to pay for?

Well, I guess the way I’ve seen it, there is no pay off in this world anymore. You just have to do what you have to do to survive.

It’s just hard. I feel like every day I’m just sitting there like, “I know there is more to life than sitting on rooftops sipping wine and writing about all of the ridiculous people I randomly meet. I just don’t know how to switch out of this mode into money-making mode. My only real skill other than writing and creative, critical thinking is making drinks. What am I doing here? What am I doing anywhere? Everywhere I go, it will always be the same.”

If only I could wrangle me one of these hot fintech bros that keep walking by and then I would never have to worry about money ever again. I could just have a nice apartment with a roof of my own located somewhere within and just write. Alas, they look good on the outside, but the reality is they are all just one ketamine-fueled crash out away from ending up on the street.

Oh yeah, that reminds me. I had to stop checking out Neighbor Guy after I saw some chick carrying a bag of takeout go into his apartment the other day. She had a key. So now I’ve just started avoiding him by taking the stairwells again. Always the same story with these guys, isn’t it? I really must see that witch under the bridge about breaking whatever curse this is.

Well, I’ve checked on flight prices and they’re not great. If I want to fly to the US and then to Dublin, it’s like $1500-$2000 and I have to deal with ALL of the insanity. Upside: 12 hour layover in Tokyo, which I’ve never been to.

Meanwhile, good guy Ireland is keeping flight prices to Dublin from SEA very low. I’m looking at $500-$800 there, depending on which hub I go through.

Istanbul is probably best. They probably just fly over Mainland China and then up through the Stans. Skip the GCC entirely. That’s a hell of a flight though. And I don’t get the luxuries of Emirates or Qatar Airways for the long-haul. Disappointing.

I just don’t know what else to do. I’m not getting anywhere with my job hunt. AI just eats my applications. Besides, I have terrible luck with jobs. I always end up working for and with the worst people. Starbucks is the brightest, shiniest example. I will never forget how my co-workers treated me after my father died. Pure human garbage, the whole lot of them. I am convinced that most of Gen-Z is dysfunctional and rotten to the core.

So now I am trying to work through my actual, literal fear of going back to work after what happened with Starbucks and with the South African company that brought me to HK in the first place. I really have terrible anxiety about working with other people now. I’m just afraid I will be targeted and vilified for defending myself and then I have to sit back and watch as my source of income and health insurance is ripped away, yet again, just so someone else can make some kind of temporary gains.

So I do realize that people in the corporate world only get increasingly more psychotic from here. The world we live in is a terrible place. I just don’t want to be around monstrous people like that anymore. Like I literally just cannot do it. I have no tolerance for it anymore. It’s so much easier to just hide in my room and sleep and pretend the world doesn’t exist outside of my blog or my notebook.

I know it’s a problem. I just don’t know how to solve it. I only know that I’m out here all on my own and that I am the only person who can solve it. I’m just… not solving it. I don’t think I want to solve it. I think I just want to hop that flight to Ireland and run away to a magical fairy land where I can write in a castle overlooking the sea.

Yes, right, that sounds very realistic, Betsey. Let us all know how that goes for you when you find yourself broke and homeless and left alone out on the street in the rain.

I swear to you, my fear of being homeless is seriously the only thing motivating me at times. I refuse to live in a tent or sleep on a bench. But I am also an Artiste and I live to create and I don’t know how else to live aside from Creation.

And no one likes me. I suck at networking and socializing. Everyone always ends up hating me. I’m definitely going to die alone on the street in the rain.

Oh god, I think I might have an anxiety attack. God help me.

I’m sure it would probably help a lot if I just went for a walk and ate something aside from 7/11 snacks and ramen noodles.

🙁 🙁 🙁

BLOG: Have You Ever Wrangled a Scorpion?

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Friday afternoon. Very late in the day. Working at the coffee shop.

I did not do much writing today. I mainly focused on completing and submitting an application for a summer study program in Ireland. It’s all done and sent off now. Wish me luck!

As much as I love Hong Kong, I am really starting to feel a major pull towards Ireland. I think I should just go there. I spent some time researching my options and decided this short summer study program might be the best way in. I can take classes on Irish history, culture, and language, learn about my family’s history, and possibly get recommendations for my graduate school applications.

No idea where I’m going to get the money for this. I guess I’ll just have to go begging to my family again for it. Ugh. So low. The lowest of the low. This is why I need to go back to school; so I can finally set myself up with a proper career instead of floating around in the SEA.

I figure… I can always come back to Hong Kong. It’s a very special little club. Once you’re in, you’re in.

In the meantime, there have been some interesting men floating around to entertain me. I saw that Aussie guy again yesterday. I caught him walking down my street by my apartment yesterday. I knew as soon as I saw him passing by my door that he was looking for me. I realized too late I was already holding my keys in my hands. Dead giveaway.

He does not live in this neighborhood, by the way. He says he stays somewhere on the other side of the island over by the beach. That’s a long way to trek down to Central…

Yes, he was still wearing the exact same outfit as he has been wearing every time I’ve seen him. I called him out on it and he said, “I swear I’ve laundered it! I’m all nice and clean for you now.”

Sadly I have not seen him today, otherwise I would say to him, “We really need to get you out of those clothes.” And leave him to puzzle over whether or not I’m making a double entendre. I am.

It’s easy to mess with him and just disappear on him. He’s not very straightforward with me, which I find annoying. He’s very vague, like “Are you gonna stay here all afternoon?”

No, I have things to do. Why can’t you just ask me out on a proper dinner date instead of running around with your finlaw bros in Wan Chai all night?

Answer: Because I am 99% sure he is married and lying to me about it! He wants to go there, but he can’t because there’s something holding him back. We know what that thing is: ye olde ball and chain.

Next time I see him, I am just going to say to him, “Bro, here is my question for you: Have you ever wrangled a scorpion?”

“What?

“I heard Aussies are pretty good at that. You know, handling dangerous, venomous creatures.”

“…”

“Do you want to give it a go? I might be inclined to give you the opportunity to do so if you’re honest with me about your situation and compensate me fairly for my time.”

Hahahaha!

I’m just kidding. I think he said he was going back to Australia. Alas! That is fine with me. I actually have a back-up plan.

His name is Neighbor Guy. He lives right next door to me. He’s a British Hong Konger. So, local. He’s really hot. Total beefcake bro. Very, very chill. Adorable little posh accent. Hawt!!!

I met him on my rooftop. We keep startling each other by accident. It’s become a little inside joke. He gave me some information I needed the other day, so now we are friends. I saw him last night and he was like, “I guess we will be seeing more of each other now.”

I hope so. You need a roommate? So do I. How would you like to move out to the outer Islands with me and split that exorbitant rent price in half by two? Hahaha.

It’s very dry out here on my Island this season. I’m getting very thirsty. One of these guys is gonna have to put up or shut up…